


I didn't believe in religion (until you touched me babe)

by Atlanta_Black



Series: Harry Potter One-shots [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, James Lives, Like an actual mess, M/M, Sirius is a fucking mess, Sirius is giving off strong submissive vibes in this, it was gonna turn into sex but sirius got emotional, lily is shaking her head through all of this, so this is what we get instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: Lily sacrifices herself for Harry and when he finds out the only thing he feels is relief. Crippling, gut wrenching relief that James is still still alive.Later, he looks down at James and Harry sleeping together, curled up, and feels the guilt start to form in his stomach. James just cried himself to sleep because Lily was dead and the only thing Sirius could feel was relief. What kind of friend did that make him?What kind of person did that make him?...alternatively; Sirius is a guilty mess and James is there to pick up the pieces





	I didn't believe in religion (until you touched me babe)

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [DogStar234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogStar234/pseuds/DogStar234) in the [TomarryFlashExchanges](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TomarryFlashExchanges) collection. 

> I have absolutely no idea where I pulled this from. It was only supposed to be like 1000 words but this is what we ended up with. It's not exactly what the prompt asked for but I hope you like it anyways!!
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
> Sirius is living with widowed James and toddler Harry. He falls in love with James, and hates himself, because he's supposed to be helping, not stealing glances at him.

Lily sacrifices herself for Harry and when he finds out the only thing he feels is relief. Crippling, gut wrenching relief that James is  _ still still _ alive. 

Later, he looks down at James and Harry sleeping together, curled up, and feels the guilt start to form in his stomach. James just cried himself to sleep because Lily was dead and the only thing Sirius could feel was relief. What kind of friend did that make him? 

What kind of person did that make him?

Life moves on. 

They plan Lily’s funeral and Sirius thinks that if it wasn’t for Harry, James would have already drunk himself into an early grave. He’s already drinking more than he should considering how young Harry is, but Sirius thinks it would be much worse otherwise. And doesn’t that just leave something bitter curling in his stomach. James was his long before he was Lily’s and he  _ hates hates _ the idea that James would leave him without a second thought. 

They buy a house by the sea and he spends most of his time there, worrying about James and Harry. Harry’s still so young but he’s old enough to know that suddenly his mum is gone. She doesn’t come no matter how long or how hard he cries. That more than anything really makes Sirius’s heart crack and makes him miss Lily. Not for James’s sake _never for James’s sake_ but for Harry’s. 

When he isn’t worrying over them he’s out: drinking himself into the ground and trying to drown out the guilt of letting fucking Peter be the secret keeper. Of letting that fucking traitorous rat get away. If he had just been the secret keeper, none of this would have happened. Lily and James would be still be happy, Harry would still have both of his parents, and he could have just kept on pretending that he was perfectly content with the way things were. Could have kept on pretending right up until the point a Death Eater killed him for their location. 

Now he’s here in some back alley bar and Lily is dead and James has sunk so far into his grief Sirius isn’t sure he’ll ever come out. Sometimes he goes to Lily’s grave, when he knows James is busy with Harry, and he talks to her. He apologizes until his lips are chapped and his voice is hoarse. Because Merlin, he never wanted her dead. But relief is still the most prominent emotion and some days he wakes up to James smiling at Harry and he feels as if it’s going to overwhelm him. 

_ He never sees James staring at him with worried eyes.  _

He tells Lily about Harry. About how he still asks for her, although as the months drag on he asks less and less. And Sirius knows eventually Harry will stop asking and eventually they’ll reach that point where he won’t remember her at all. How when he’s older they’ll have to explain that she gave her life so that he could live and they’ll have to watch that guilt manifest in Harry’s eyes. 

He tells her about how James still cries himself to sleep. How when Harry can’t sleep, James will get up and sing those silly Muggle lullabies to calm him down. How Sirius has seen him crying into Harry’s hair while he sings. How he’s so scared that James is going to decide to leave them both and join her.

How he knows that James would never leave Harry but sometimes he catches James staring out the window at the cliffs by the sea with a speculative gaze that scares him. He had never been close to Lily before, but she knows more about him now than anyone else. Knows more about him than even James. 

Remus still hasn’t surfaced from wherever Dumbledore’s sent him and Sirius is starting to wonder if he ever will. Is starting to wonder if he’s even still alive. He buries that worry with the guilt, scared to let it out. 

He’s so tired. 

The months are still dragging by, sticky slow, even though a year has managed to pass. James has either stopped crying himself to sleep or he’s learned how to use a Silencing Charm. Sirius isn’t sure which it is but he’s hoping for the former. Harry very rarely asks for his mum anymore and it makes Sirius feels as if his heart is shattering. 

Every day James looks just a little lighter, a little less inclined to throwing himself off a cliff. And everyday Sirius breaths in around broken glass and struggles to not drop to his knees in thanks. He wonders if this is penance for all the awful things he did and said in school. Wonders if this is how James felt everytime Lily said no and cut him down. 

James stops eyeing the cliffs and Sirius takes to wandering their edges instead. He’s so tired and sometimes, he stands on the edge of the cliffs looking out at the ocean — and for just a moment — he can lose himself in the sight of it. He can forget the guilt that he’s been carrying around and just feel weightless. Can imagine how it would feel to just drop and not feel anything ever again. 

He always goes home. 

Goes back to Harry’s laughter and James’s cooking. Goes back to a house that no longer reeks of grief but feels like sunshine. Goes back and acts like everything is fine. Like the desire to drop to his knees in front of James is purely out of gratitude that he’s alive and not because he wants those hands in his hair holding him still. Like he’s not fucking going out of his mind with want. Like being in love with James isn’t burning him up inside. Like he’s not still breathing around broken glass and shattered ribs. 

_ He still hasn’t noticed James watching him with worried eyes. Still hasn’t noticed the way James spends time just tracing Sirius’s edges.  _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

_ . _

He’s sitting on the cliff-edges when James finds him. He’s been vaguely considering the rocks below and how much they would hurt if he fell when the sound of crunching leaves catches his attention. 

“Prongs, what’s up?” He asks, tone neutral. James doesn’t usually bother him when he’s out here. 

There’s a long silence and Sirius finally looks over at James only to find him staring back. There’s a strange look on his face that Sirius doesn’t recognize. It’s been almost two years since Lily died and Sirius has never seen this expression in that time. . He doesn’t think he ever saw this expression even before Lily died. 

“Prongs? Are you okay?” he pauses and then sucks in a shocked breath: “Is Harry okay?” he exclaims, already pushing himself up. 

“Harry’s fine, Pads.” James says, his voice oddly gentle. 

Sirius stands there, feeling weirdly off-balance. James is still staring at him, eyes soft but that strange expression still on his face. “I don’t understand,” he says, cringing at the panic still threading through his words. 

James hums, cocks his head and Sirius swallows down the whine building in his throat. 

“Come here.” James says lowly. 

Sirius is stepping forward before he even registers the words. He stops before he gets too close. Leaves enough space that you could fit another person between them. Swallows hard when James narrows his eyes and purposefully takes that last step forward. They’re close enough that their chests are nearly brushing when they breathe. 

He breathes in. Tries not to panic. Breathes out. He has no idea what’s going on and James is still staring at him. 

He flinches back violently when James’s hand suddenly lands on his shoulder. James uses the hand to steady him and Sirius clears his throat, glances away. 

“You’re always so busy trying to take care of me,” James murmurs. 

His eyes snap back to James, to the sad smile at the corner of his lips. The hand on his shoulder shifts until it’s gripping the back of his neck. He breathes out slowly and feels his heart racing in his chest. Feels something like anticipation racing through his blood. 

“I don’t understand,” he says again, voice quiet. The panic is gone but he’s shaking and knowing James can feel it makes it worse. 

James smiles at him, looking so sad that Sirius finds himself shifting closer, the urge to erase that look off James’s face overriding his common sense. 

“You never have,” James says, tracing patterns on the back of Sirius’s neck with his thumb. “You’ve never wanted to let me take care of you. Always so determined to be the strong one.” 

He swallows roughly and knows that he doesn’t want to know what his face looks like. Knows that there’s desperation written across his features. 

“James, I…” his voice breaks and he blinks furiously.

“Shhh.” The hand gravitates up and buries itself in his hair. “Tell me what you want,” James murmurs, close enough now that Sirius can feel the words against his lips. 

“I don’t…” he starts, cuts off when James grips his hair and yanks, hard. The whine that bursts out of his mouth is involuntarily. 

“Tell me what you want, Sirius.” James murmurs again, the soft words at odds with the grip he has on Sirius’s hair. 

He swallows again, mouth dry.  _ There’s no way to misinterpret this _ , he thinks wildly. James is still staring at him, eyes dark and he recognizes the look now.  _ Want. _ He’s only seen it in passing and  _ never never  _ directed at him. 

“ _ You. _ ” The word rips its way out of him. James grins. Merlin, Sirius never wants to look away. “Always you. I want everything you’re willing to give me.” The words rush out of him, as if they’re scared of being locked away again. 

“Oh, we’re going to talk about that,” James says. “About where you seem to think we stand with each other, and what you think I’m willing to give.” His voice is dark with promise. 

Sirius opens his mouth. To do what, he’s not sure. Maybe apologize. Maybe beg. But before he can get anything out, James is tugging him forward, looping one hand around his wrist, the other still buried in his hair. Tugs him forward and before Sirius can do anything other than think:  _ oh, _ they’re kissing. 

James kisses like he has something to prove. Like he’s making up for lost time. The kisses are soft but the hand in his hair is gripped so tight it hurts. James bites gently at his lips but grips Sirius’s wrist tight enough he thinks it might bruise. He moans into James’s mouth at the thought of bruises on his skin. 

“I’m going to take you apart,” James whispers, tearing away from the kiss. “Going to make you forget everything except for my name.” 

Sirius whimpers, his right hand clenching James’s shirt so hard that he’s scared he’s going to rip it. 

“Going to make you fucking stop thinking of yourself as disposable,” James hisses, mouthing at Sirius’s throat. 

There’s a very dim part of Sirius’s brain that is screaming. Wondering where this came from. Wondering if he means it. But the majority of his brain is too overwhelmed by the dual feelings of James’s mouth on his skin, James’s body pressed so close, James’s heartbeat racing to meet his. 

“ _ James.”  _ The name wrenches out of him, voice broken. James pulls away to stare at him, pupils blown wide. 

“I’m going to take care of you, okay,” he says, voice so soft that Sirius feels his eyes start to burn again. 

“You don’t understand.” He says, voice hoarse, the guilt pushing its way back up. He tries to pull away but James snarls at him and pulls him back in, tightening his grip on Sirius’s hair. His other hand has moved to Sirius’s waist, tight enough to hurt, and Sirius’s thoughts stutter. 

“Oh, I understand,” James mutters. “Did you know that when I go to visit Lily I go under the cloak,” he says — voice suddenly conversational. 

Sirius stares. 

The words are so out of the blue that it takes a long, drawn out minute for them to click. His stomach drops to his feet as soon as they do. He doesn’t know what his face does but James’s eyes narrow. 

“Don’t you dare try to run again,” he orders, humming happily when Sirius shivers but remains still. 

“When did you find out?” He forces the words out, mouth dry. 

“The first time I caught you was about six months after the funeral.” 

Sirius closes his eyes and drags in a shuddering breath. He doesn’t remember exactly what he had said to Lily, but he can imagine the gist of it. 

“I started following you,” James says and Sirius feels him shrug. “I was insulted at first that you thought it was easier to talk to my dead wife than to me, but I figured out why after the second time.” 

The hand leaves his hair and there’s suddenly a hand cupping his cheek. He breathes out and the sound is swallowed by the ocean’s roar. 

“Open your eyes, Sirius,” James murmurs, so unshakably gently. 

He opens his eyes. 

There’s so much gentleness in his eyes that Sirius feels his heart stop. 

“You always try to be so strong for me, even when it’s tearing you apart.” James’s thumb drags across his parted mouth, momentarily catching his bottom lip, and Sirius’s breath catches. “But you have no reason to feel guilty, Sirius. There’s nothing to forgive.” 

Sirius stares and feels something in his chest shatter. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until James brings his other hand up to cup Sirius’s face and gently wipe the tears away. 

“You wanna go home?” James asks and Sirius starts crying harder at the word home. “We still have a few hours 'till I have to go get Harry from Alice and Frank.” 

Sirius nods, still crying. James smiles at him and leans in to kiss him again. They stay like that for a while. Quietly kissing. He can taste the salt from his tears on James’s lips. He finally releases his grip on James’s shirt and slides his hands down to wrap his arms around James’s waist. 

They pull apart after a while, foreheads still touching. 

“You ready?” James asks, hands still framing Sirius’s face. 

Sirius nods and lets out a laugh, ‘cause Merlin, what a fucking mess. 

“Yeah, let’s go home,” he says and feels — for the first time since Lily died — like it’s going to be alright. Feels like maybe she’s smiling down at them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
